


The Best Laid Plans

by Ponder_ings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 19:03:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3300326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ponder_ings/pseuds/Ponder_ings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has the best plans for Derek and the camaro, ones that couldn't possibly go wrong...until they do. Will he ever get the chance to get his wolf?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> For Jenni Lea. Happy birthday my fabulous friend. <3 Unicorns rule.

 

  
**The Best Laid Plans**  

  
Stiles had a plan. A plan that involved the camero because frankly he didn’t want his dad’s deputies investigating his parked jeep. The plan also involved a certain werewolf that was driving Stiles crazy. In his mind, which, if he was honest with himself, perhaps wasn’t the safest benchmark for a plan going well, it would be a breeze. He just had to get the said werewolf plus car to a parking spot, get him naked and fuck his brains out. Simples.

He should have known better.

The first time he tried was just before Derek’s birthday. Not on his birthday because, you know, tacky. He wasn’t offering himself as a present...besides, a Stiles is for life and not just a birthday. He hoped.

“Come on Derek, I’m bored and you’re free. We should totally go for a ride in the camero. You know, the sun’s shining, we can let our hair down open the windows be the young free souls we are....well, you know, until we’re fighting all the supernatural miscreants that come through this place. But at the moment we’re not. We’re free, everyone is busy and I’m bored.” He said it nonchalantly and hoped Derek wouldn’t hear the tell-tale blip of lie in his heart. He was so not bored. Excited, nervous, hyper and so lust filled it was ridiculous, but he wasn’t bored. In fact the reason they were alone, with none of the pack around tonight, was because Stiles had subtly engineered it that way.

It had actually been at work that he realised the problem, why he spent every night dreaming of turning Derek’s eyes all the colours of the rainbow with passion, and no time actually doing said thing and any and all acts that might manage it. It was because him and Derek were only ever alone in life being threatened situations. Sure, alone time, when you’re both trying not to drown in a swimming pool or get killed by an alpha or kill some fucking evil tree, there’s been plenty of that, but none of the alone time when Stiles can get super friendly with Derek and let him know just how much he likes being part of the pack.

“No Stiles. Alone time – it’s a dream concept these days and I plan on making the most of it.”

Stiles smirked. “Oh yeah big man? I hear ya, but you know you can do that later right? You don’t need all evening.” _Especially after I’ve finished with you_ , he thought.

“Stiles, get out.” 

  
The door didn’t  _quite_ hit him as he left the loft, and he only sulked a little bit at the effort that had gone into the evening and was currently wasting away. Still, no pain no gain right? There was always next time.   


 

*****

Next time was three weeks later. It was as equally well planned on Stiles part. After reviewing the circumstances last time he’d come to the conclusion that trying to manipulate the whole situation was what didn’t work. It was awkward. He needed to find a way to get Derek alone in the car without it being obvious that he was trying to do. So, with his usual careful preparations, he emptied all snack-able items out of Derek’s loft. It wasn’t easy, he was after all trying to con a werewolf, but he managed it. Then he arranged a movie night...and what is a movie night without snacks? Exactly. Stiles even waited until everyone else was already lounging waiting for the movie to start before he ‘discovered’ the lack of munchables.

  
“Hey big guy, you drive, I’ll buy.” This time it didn’t even warrant an answer just some impressive eyebrow movement and Derek was gone to get snacks. Alone.

_Give me a break,_ thought Stiles as he slid to the floor in front of the couch. By the time the Joss Whedon marathon had ended he was feeling more optimistic. It had everything to do with the fact that he’d managed to spend the entire evening against the chair Derek had dropped into when he’d returned with popcorn and enough candy to keep a dentist busy for a year. That meant he’d spent the entire evening mere inches away from Derek’s muscular, denim clad legs. Win. Of course all the werewolves present now thought he found Mal Reynolds more exciting than he actually did (though, you know, he wouldn’t say no, he was a red blooded male after all), but that was a small price to pay.

*****

So, third time lucky Stiles told himself as he drained the gas from his jeep, leaving just enough to get to the outskirts of town where he planned on running out and calling in a rescue from his favourite neighbourhood wolf. The calculations required regarding how much gas he would have to lose in order to leave enough to run out at the optimum place – chosen carefully after some scouting round – had nearly given Stiles a headache. It would be totally worth it. The money he was literally tipping down the drain as he emptied the tank – totally worth it. The risk of looking stupid, abandoned because of low gas – totally worth it. What could go wrong this time? Nothing. He’d made sure that Derek was around on the day he’d chosen to put the plan into action. He’d made sure that Scott was busy and his dad was at work. Nothing. Could. Go. Wrong.

Yeah.

Right.

A patrol car. A freaking patrol car drove by, just as the jeep pulled to a halt. One of his dad’s deputies recognised the jeep and had decided to rescue him, despite Stiles vehement protests. Fuck his life. Now not only had he _not_ laid the hottest wolf in town, he was broke, was the brunt of the department’s damsels in distress jokes – a fact which had come with his dad’s _How Could You Be So Irresponsible Kid_ lecture. Stiles thinks this was more due to the ragging he was getting at work after the patrol car had driven him to pick up more gas and  then back to the jeep, than actual worry about Stiles, after all Stiles was a big boy now. On the other hand it was his dad’s job to worry and, despite the numerous dangerous situations he’d been in his dad didn’t know about, the ones that he did were always worse because of the guilt. The guilt Stiles laid on himself with a trowel when he knew his dad was worrying. So, yeah, attempt three equalled epic fail.

*****

Annnnnd that was it. Stiles was done with trying to get Derek naked and begging for mercy. He’d deleted the you tube video that had set the idea in motion...even though it hurt to see such epic hotness deleted from his computer. Two men, fucking like bunnies in the front of a car. Hot damn. It hurt more to know that this would never be him and Derek. Apparently, it wasn’t in fate’s plans. As much as he wanted to tell fate to go fuck itself, he didn’t quite dare, seeing as his life was in fate’s hands more often than not. In a dangerous, nearly dying way, not a _oh your life is rainbows and sunshine and unicorns_ way. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

...Fuck.

_Oh fuck._

“Stiles. Run!” Derek said flinging car keys at him which Stiles caught with unusual grace. Stiles didn’t need telling twice. He ran, bolting even before witnessing Derek shift. Limbs flailing he ran right through the centre of a lake sized puddle, only giving himself a nano-second to grieve for his favourite jeans, they were never going to survive this.

  
Twigs cracked underfoot, mud splattered up his legs, up his T-shirt, he didn’t care, the only sound he could hear was Derek and _it_. The biggest mother of a wolf he’d ever seen. He tried to get his phone from where it nestled in his jeans pocket, an impossible task in snugly fitted denim (all the better to show off his ass and, er, assets) while running at high speed. Or at least, the Stiles human equivalent of high speed.

  
He should have stopped. Getting help was, in the grand scheme of things, more important than running. Every growl and tearing of flesh he could hear reminded him of this, but he had some crazy idea of getting to the car and driving straight into the thing. There wasn’t a lot he could do as a human against a werewolf, but he was sure it was too big for Derek to fight alone. If he could call for help while running then he could help Derek hold it off until the rest of the pack got there. Every fibre of his being screamed at him to help Derek.

He should have stopped.

He should have stopped. If he’d stopped he wouldn’t have tripped over his own stupid feet while running. The car keys wouldn’t have flung out of his hand. He wouldn’t have landed, phone first, keys next, body following, in the biggest freaking puddle in the forest. Fuck his life. He was scrambling up, trying to save his phone, he needed to get back-up. Of course, the phone was history. Pulling to his knees he dragged his hands through the puddle, raking through mud and twigs and debris praying for the cool, smooth touch of metal keys. He prayed to all the deities he could think of, but in the dark and mud he had not a hope in hell of finding them.

The sound of flesh ripping, followed by an other-worldly howl, had him scrambling to his feet. Heart pounding, he turned in his track. With no way to call back-up, he was all Derek had and there was no way he was leaving him to die alone. No way, not a chance. He may as well rip his heart from his chest himself, so, swallowing hard he started forward, back to where Derek fought the wolf. A flash of brown fur and a growl stopped him in his tracks.

 Even in the dark Stiles could make out the outline of the beast. Eyes glowing it growled, long and low and deep. Stiles swallowed and considered his options. He had no idea where Derek was, if he was alive or...nope, he wasn’t going there. Should he try and run again? Attack? Offer himself up as a broken hearted sacrifice? A movement behind the beast caught his eye, Derek was still alive. Red glinted in the moonlight, his sourwolf was injured but if Stiles could distract beast wolf long enough Derek might just stand a chance. Stupider things had happened.

 

  
“Hey doggy, who let you off your leash huh?” Yeah, not especially clever but it worked particularly well. With a ground-rumbling growl it shot forward, poetry in motion really, in its effortless glide towards Stiles. The gap between them closed before Stiles had time to blink. To move. To think what to do. As the cogs in his brain turned slowly into a  _get the hell down_ idea, the beast was attacked from the side. Not just attacked, pulverised. Red sprayed into the air as the head of the beast detached from the body, flopping to the side hanging on by skin and sinew in some bastardised version of Nearly Headless Nick.   


 

Familiar claws reached out and severed those last threads that were trying to keep the head attached, as easily as a hot knife through butter. And....to be quite honest Stiles wasn’t really sure what happened after that – not til he became aware of standing next to Derek and the camaro – but he was pretty sure it involved passing out.

“What the fuck Stiles? I told you to run, he could have killed you!” Derek’s eyes flashed, angry and...scared?

“I did run you ungrateful bastard. If it wasn’t for me distracting him you’d never have got your chance.” Stiles stood up and glared right at Derek, only slightly aware of the gouges spread across the other mans bare chest...until suddenly all he was aware of was the claw shaped red lines spread across the other man’s bare chest. Marks that were healing like lightening and leaving just bare chest behind. And muscle. So much muscle.

“Stiles. It would have killed you. Big bad werewolf, what bit of that don’t you get?” Derek moved a step closer, his eyes not straying from Stiles face.

“I had it totally under control, big guy. Face it, I saved your butt.” The growl Derek uttered at that wasn’t entirely human, nor was it werewolf. What it was, was knee weakening. Dick twitching and knee weakening. _How could a growl have such a physical effect on a person?_ Stiles wondered he felt his knees actually give way.  His hands flailed, searching for something to grab onto when they found purchase on shoulders so broad they ought to be illegal. Strong arms closed round him holding him upright and right there in front of his face was Derek. Chiselled chin, stubble, perfect lips and the clearest, palest green eyes framed by the darkest brows, mere inches from Stiles mouth.

“I saved you, you asshole,” Stiles managed to whisper before he closed the gap between them and mashed his mouth into Derek’s. A moment’s hesitation was all there was before Derek emitted a low moan and backed Stiles into the jeep behind him.

Stubble scraped across his chin, a nip of teeth on his bottom lip and then a tongue pushing for entry into his mouth. Stiles opened with a sigh, as his fingers dug into the back of Derek’s neck and his cock hardened in his mud-soaked pants. There was nothing soft and gentle about it – it was feral, fearless. Bodies pressed together, groins rutting and kisses so hard and desperate Stiles could barely breathe.

Scraping his nails down Derek’s back caused the wolf to make a sound that should be made illegal. So Stiles repeated it. Not stopping the trajectory downwards Stiles let his hand squeeze beneath the denim and cotton of Derek’s jeans and underwear. With hands spread as wide as he could in the restricting fabric, he kneaded the smooth mounds of Derek’s ass, crassly letting one finger trail inwards towards Derek’s hole.

“Stiles.” Derek pulled away breaking the kiss and looked him straight in the eye. “Stiles, are you sure?” The words were forced, lust filled, as if the owner of them didn’t quite have control over his mouth. Stiles just nodded. A slight dip of his head before clenching his hands around that glorious ass and pulling Derek closer still. Hard dick met hard dick with far too much clothing in between. Somehow, without breaking their hungry mouths apart, Derek managed to get Stiles pants to his knees and then his own in the same position.

Stiles didn’t give a damn that they were in the middle of the forest. He really couldn’t have cared less if they had an audience. At that moment in time all there was, was Derek. And Derek’s mouth, and hands, and, oh dear god, Derek’s cock. Rutting forward Stiles had no control over the noises he made when their cocks touched.  Flared head to flared head, shaft to shaft, and soon encased in the sweet, sweet grip of Derek’s hand.

 

Stiles had no control over himself. Everything was Derek and wet and heat and. So. Much. Pressure. As they found a rhythm rutting and kissing and stroking a sweet pure need tugged at Stiles balls. It built, became all he knew and, with the sweet taste of Derek in his mouth, he came. Hot spunk splashed over Derek’s hand and covered both their stomachs and, as if it was all the signal he needed, Derek stilled. A strangled cry escaped the wolf as more hotness splashed onto Stiles. It was perfect.

In the wake of imminent death need had blossomed and Stiles could already feel tears burning at the back of his throat, fearful this was all there would ever be.

*****

Stiles need not have feared.

The second, third, fourth, fifth...hell, all the next times they had sex, there was no manipulation involved on Stiles part. It had been days before they’d even talked about what had happened – what was happening – choosing instead to spend their time fucking. They did it hard and dirty, and soft and gently, and several ways in between. Eventually the pack forced their way into the loft and promptly left in disgust (the smell of sex was so strong even Stiles could smell it with his human nose) with instructions for Derek and Stiles to shower and disinfect the place, they needed a pack meeting.

They complied, knowing they really had some explaining to do. Stiles found he really couldn’t be bothered to give a damn what the others thought though. Derek was his and he was fairly certain that this would be the truth for a good long time to come.

 


End file.
